Rewriting the Last Page
by Starjargon
Summary: Amy and Rory learn to adjust to life in Manhattan, with correspondence and surprises from River and the Doctor. Manhattan fix- it. AU


**A/N- After a long, _long_ day, I needed some happy. Of course, my happy tends to involve some angsty apparently, so here's this. Completely canon divergent. I do hope you like it, as it got me through my day...**

* * *

It had been a little disconcerting, to say the least, when they had blinked and found themselves back nearly fifty years before they had been born. They had ended up a few streets away from each other, but Amy had always found her Rory. It turns out they both had decided to explore River's Melody Malone headquarters, which were easy enough to track down, in the hopes of finding a way back to normal (for them, anyway) there. Their reunion was emotional, to say the least: Rory not knowing where Amy would come when she began looking for him, Amy not knowing whether or not Rory had been sent back to that time and place at all. They cried bittersweet tears that first night, and they camped out in their makeshift haven- safe, at least, in each other's arms.

Amy had explained everything to Rory. How they could never go back. How they had to die there. How they would never be able to see their daughter or the Doctor ever again. She didn't have to explain how she had gotten stuck there too. He no longer needed the reassurance that he would always be her choice, as she was always his.

They had plundered River's possessions, such as they were, leaving their daughter a letter for the future, explaining everything. They'd come up with enough for a house, and fresh identities. They were grateful their daughter had always been resourceful, and that Rory had such a marketable skill, since they had landed right in the midst of the Great Depression.

All in all, they were able to make a comfortable life for themselves, and after a while they had learned the rhythms of this alien city, time, and country. They were happy, in a place that suited both of them. Rory got the simple house and family he had always wanted, and Amy, living in a thriving metropolis, got just enough adventure to keep her constantly excited about life.

There was only one thing that still saddened them, in the dark cover of their innermost thoughts, when their lonely house guarded their secrets.

Never again.

Never again would Amy mock the Doctor about one of his alien habits. Never again would Rory and River duel with swords. Never again would Amy get to call on her grown Melody, or have the opportunity to talk to her Raggedy Man. Never again would Rory and the Doctor have a disagreement, or River confide in her father. Their house, for all its comfort and peace and Pond/ Williams-ness, was too quite.

"I miss them," said Amy sadly one day, her head on Rory's lap as he read a book.

He put a hand on her shoulder, knowing he couldn't take her hurt away.

* * *

_22 April 2745_

_Dear Dad and Mum,_

_The Doctor gave me a wonderfully indescribable surprise for our anniversary. Hope. Wish you could be here with me, sharing in this wonderful gift. But perhaps somehow, someday, you will be... Spoilers!_

_Miss you both so much,_

_River_

* * *

A few months after they had left, they started receiving correspondence from River. They had found different ways of getting messages to her now, and they seemed to communicate in circles. A gift left in a safety deposit box to be retrieved years later. A thank you card arriving the next day by Western Union. A message given to a smitten construction worker working on a public building, a responding line in a certain reprint of their favourite books.

And so it went. A way to connect to two of the people they missed more than anything. Over several months, the pain dulled. Then, came the playground. It had been started by the President's New Deal initiative, a way to provide jobs to the destitute. When it was finally finished, it brought children and parents together from all around.

Amy and Rory noticed it, of course. On their daily walks, sometimes they would stop by, watching the kids enjoying themselves. Most days, they would wish they had a specific child to watch. They had learnt by now to disguise the hurt. A young couple in a nice house with no children? Well- meaning neighbours would ask them when they were planning on starting a family. Nosy older people would ask about their other relatives. Curious youngsters would run up to them, asking if they were the parents of their newfound friend.

Always the same questions. Always the same answers. Always the stab of renewed pain.

They began to understand why the Doctor always adopted a human to travel with.

"I miss them, too," said Rory, with his arm wrapped around Amy, watching the sun set behind the swings.

* * *

_27 March 1892_

_Happy Mother's Day, Mum._

_The Doctor and I have a new trick. Perhaps we will still be able to show you someday. There must be a way. And if you know my husband (and you know him well), he will find it._

_Love always,_

_River_

* * *

Amy had learned long ago to worry about the Doctor. River had promised to look after him, and she knew that her daughter would do her best. But, they were never ones for conventional living. And he was always rubbish alone- no one there to share in his new discoveries, or to help him find the humanity in his alienness. She would hear a strange noise, or see a historic site rising, or an unexplained event, and she kept finding herself constantly turning to the friend who was no longer there, expecting him to grab her hand and ask her to come along.

"Do you think he's alright?" she asked as they dined at a newly- discovered restaurant.

Rory would treat a little girl, fallen with scraped knees, a boy who had tripped on the sidewalk, a teenager who needed someone to talk to. He remembered the silly wounds his friend and daughter would acquire, all those reckless deeds that had helped prompt him to become a nurse to right her again. He remembered the tears she had learned to hold back, the wounds she learnt to hide, the breaks she never asked to mend.

"Do you think he's taking care of her?" he asked as they saw a young couple bickering whilst holding hands.

* * *

_23 December 5022_

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_It seems Christmas arrived early this year on Calderon Beta. The Doctor says his Melody was the brightest star in the sky. Sentimental idiot._

_Miss you two. Love you,_

_River_

* * *

Each Christmas, they still set out two extra places.

"Maybe next year," they said with hopeful smiles as they cleaned up too much food.

* * *

_7 July 9168_

_Dear Dad and Mum,_

_After a lot of planning, a little cajoling, and several very stimulating conversations between Albert Einstein and the Doctor, we've managed to arrange a surprise for you. Take a walk in Central Park, this Saturday at half past 3. You'll see it by the third bench on the right._

_Hope you like it,_

_River _(and the Doctor!)

_And the Doctor..._

* * *

It would be nice, they decided, to have something connecting them to home again. Something connecting them to River. And the Doctor.

They had waited, as was their habit, for two years. Two years of hoping for something that might remind them of the lives they once had. Two years looking for a way to send something bigger than a letter or a small package back to those they loved. Two years of wishing to receive some confirmation that Brian and the Ponds were all right without them. Two years of secretly looking to receive a memento from their only child or their best friend, hoping that he hadn't become lost without them and had learnt to move on.

And so it was, with all eagerness and faith, they set out on the day prescribed by their Melody, Amy's bag filled with supplies they may need to retrieve their surprise.

When they turned the corner, around a large tree, they were slightly disappointed to see nothing out of the ordinary from their point of view. They kept walking past people and bicycles, children and parents, toward the third bench. Closer still, and nothing had shown itself.

A few trees surrounding the bench, some grass fighting to stay alive, a couple with a dog, a man. A man...

Rory saw him first, but it was Amy who started running. When he got over his shock, Rory ran too, arriving just as Amy thrust herself into his arms, tears running down her cheeks. He squeezed her, then turned to a speechless Rory, hugging him tightly.

"Rory," there were tears running down both of their faces now.

"Dad," replied the astonished nurse.

* * *

_9 August 2012_

_Amy! _

_Did you like my gift?! After we went back and explained what happened (your mother's got quite the slap on her) Rory's dad decided he wouldn't mind seeing the past. We (well, mostly River) helped him settle all his affairs and say his goodbyes, and after some clever manoeuvring on my part, we were able to send him back there with River's manipulator! Hope you don't mind a permanent house guest... No, of course you don't. Anyway, I got a new suit! River says she loves it, but she always seems to say this when she's standing behind me, so I never know if she's gotten the full effect of the outfit, with the waistcoat and new fob watch. I use a fob watch now. Fob watches are cool! I look rather sophisticated. No more silly old Time Lord! Well- things to do. Big, important, quite smelly, unidentifiable liquidy things to tend to. _

_Bye Bye, Pond,_

_The Doctor_

_P.S. Say hi to the Roman for me_

* * *

It was rather comforting, having Brian around. The house seemed much less lonely. There were gifts at birthdays and anniversaries, and parties and laughter and memories. Brian was a great help to both of them, and was fascinated by every "old" experience he had. They found they both got great satisfaction being able to show him around their city, for so it had become, and introducing him to familiar haunts and sights they knew he would appreciate.

It made them feel good again, knowing they had knowledge and usefulness to someone they loved. On their weekends or their free time, they would take short trips to different historical events or monuments, watching history unfold before their eyes. He gasped at the enormity of the city, and gaped at the brand new Empire State Building. He would take long walks "exploring" and would come back hours later, always with a story to tell about where he'd been, adding another pin to the large New York map he'd somehow acquired, each indicating another place he'd like to see.

They were happy to oblige him- this man who'd given up his world to remain in theirs. And they both always enjoyed these small trips, remembering times of not- so- long ago. They experienced so much at his request, and were grateful his presence dammed much of the pain they'd felt since leaving the next century. He always tried to keep them entertained and safe. They were even going to Ellis Island next Saturday, (despite Rory's still- hostile relationship with the Statue of Liberty) in an "attempt to welcome a few strangers to a new land," since they all had experienced such trepidation and he felt it only fair to try to empathize with other displaced foreigners.

* * *

_8 October 5130_

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_This will probably be my last letter to you. I hope you understand what an important part of my life you are, and how very much you mean to me. I appreciate everything you've ever done for me- more than you can imagine. Words can't express how very much I miss you, and how I long to have you in my life again._

_I love you both so much,_

_River_

* * *

Amy and Rory were despondent after their daughter's last letter, their spirits down as they gloomily waded through the crowd on Ellis Island. Brian kept acting as though nothing was wrong, commenting on how very interesting all the immigrants were as they flooded the streets.

"It's like watching history before my eyes. _It is_ history before my eyes."

When he saw the half- hearted smiles they tried to wear for his sake, he grinned fondly, throwing an arm around each of them.

"Cheer up you two, it's not as bad as all that."

When that failed to lift their spirits, he pulled them closer to him, walking down the streets as they leaned against him for support, worried about their daughter's mysterious goodbye.

"There could be a number of things she meant. Besides, it's always very important to remember- there's one thing you must never, ever let go of."

"What's that, Brian?" asked Amy.

Brian nudged them forward again, scanning the crowds and putting on his biggest smile, even as he squatted down.

"Hope."

Suddenly, they heard a shriek, and a little girl with long brown hair ran straight into Brian's outstretched arms.

"Dad, be careful, she could-" started a cautious Rory, before he heard another shriek and a very young ginger boy toddled up, grabbing Brian with tiny hands and bringing himself close to the beaming man.

"Trick! Hope! I thought I told you two not to get too far ahead!" Amy and Rory froze as they heard that voice, not believing it could actually be true.

"I've got them, Doctor," called Brian, his arms still wrapped around the two young kids in front of him. "You just take care of my granddaughter there, and let me worry about my great-grandkids. Been awhile since we've gotten to do our special bunny faces together," he said, even as all three faces scrunched up and began rubbing noses with each other between giggles.

"Thank you, Granddad," said River, who finally came into view, the Doctor tugging her behind him as she waddled with a large, protruding stomach.

"Now you three behave when you meet your Nan and Papa," said River, her smile wide and mischievous as she watched Brian with her children. "Doctor, where's Melody?"

"We've got her," replied Tabetha Pond as she and Augustus made their way behind River with a little blond girl with tight ringlets perhaps just barely old enough to walk.

The Doctor had his hand on River's back, supporting her and her extra weight, before he, after making sure she was alright, turned toward Amy and Rory.

He smiled wide at Amy as she stared at him, speechless. She shook her head slightly, wondering if this was all a dream or if she'd somehow died and this was heaven. Then, he spoke, breaking her trance.

"Amelia Pond."

She smiled and ran to him, nearly knocking him down as they hugged tightly. Rory had come and stood next to him, masculine tears running in streams down his face as he approached them, pausing to look at River with a smile as wide as her own, taking a very appraising look at her pregnant stomach, before she leaned forward and grasped him closely to her, tears in her own eyes. When Amy and the Doctor finally released one another, she grabbed her daughter firmly as the Doctor nearly squeezed the life out of Rory, kissing him on both cheeks in joy.

Then Amy and Rory turned, and Amy ran to her mother and father. As she embraced Augustus, the baby with a soother in her mouth that Tabetha was currently holding held out both pudgy arms to Rory. He sniffled as he gently gathered her up, smiling before kissing her on her head, leaving Amy to hug her mum and dad as tightly as airflow would allow.

Then, after a tight one- armed hug to both of the Ponds, Rory grabbed Amy's hand, and they all regrouped with the others, Amy reaching out to play with the tiny fingers of the baby girl in Rory's arms.

"So, Raggedy Man. What now?" asked Amy in mock seriousness, putting her free arm around River, her face threatening to split in two with her smile.

"Now, Williams," he said with a clap as they all turned back toward the city that never sleeps, "we go home."


End file.
